Favourite Worst Nightmare
by outwittingsquirrels
Summary: The setting is Chicago, 1938. Remus Lupin is a quiet, jazz club pianist, Sirius Black a hardened ex-con with a dark past. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything I'm afraid

It was a busy Friday night when Sirius Black walked into the club, causing the already intoxicated regulars to pause in their usually relentless chugging back of cocktails and wine. It wasn't that Black was particularly handsome; the majority of men who frequented Frank's were at the very least well dressed and groomed - at least until they became drunken idiots. It was only partly because of the hard glint in his eyes as he surveyed the smoky room. It was mostly because he had an intimidating grace that made even the most cocky lawyers shrink back into their booths and bury their noses in tequila.

He took no notice of anyone, and quickly, no one took any notice of him. Except for one man. Remus Lupin. The unfailingly polite - but infuriatingly quiet - pianist was staring unashamedly at Black, with poorly disguised disgust marring his features. His fingers slowed over the keys, causing the singer to falter slightly. He quickly picked up, and tried to continue as if nothing had happened. Nothing _had_ happened. Someone had walked into the bar and bought a drink. That happened _every_ night, Lupin told himself. It was nothing.

______________

'What can I get for you?' the well built barman enquired. Black turned round to the bar, digging a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

'Double whiskey,' he replied shortly. 'And a light if you have one?'

The barman nodded. 'No problem, everything alright?' he asked lightly, taking a lighter from his shirt pocket. Black nodded without a word and put the filter-less cigarette between his teeth. The barman flicked the lighter, hand unsteady from the wine he'd been sipping at behind the bar all evening. 'Cold night.'

'Least it's not raining,' Black said, fulfilling his small talk obligation for the night. 'Thanks mate.'

He took a long drag on the fag, his keen eyes staring through the smoke. Soon the barman returned with his drink. 'Listen, d'you know anyone round here called Remus Lupin?' Black asked him quietly over the jazz music and loud patrons. He took a swig of whiskey and grimaced slightly at the burning in the back of his throat. The barman nodded.

'Sure. He's our piano player. Right good so he is. A foreign lad though, you know? Over from France or somewhere. Why d'you want to know?' the barman suddenly frowned. 'You're not from Scottie's, are you? I heard they're looking for a piano player. They're not stealing Lupin on us.'

'No no,' Black answered, looking thoughtful. 'Wouldn't dream of it. He's just- just an old friend is all.'

______________

'Hey Lupin, you alright? Seem a little distracted this evening,' the beautiful singer asked, smiling at the pianist.

'I'm fine Dora, thanks for asking,' he replied, dragging his gaze away from the bar. He _was _fine. He had a pretty girl enquiring after his well-being, he had a better job than he'd hoped for before, he had a nice flat. Everything was _fine_. Everything was better than fine. So why didn't he feel fine?

Too easy.

He didn't feel fine because a man he hated more than anything was standing at the bar as if without a care in the world, talking with Mattie and knocking back whiskey. How could he possible feel _fine_ if he couldn't punch his face in and punish him for what he'd done? Remus sighed heavily and fingered a minor chord with deft fingers. 'What's next?' he asked Dora.

The night passed slowly. By half twelve, Remus was exhausted. Black still hadn't left, though he'd stopped drinking whiskey by that time. Remus had taken to avoiding looking in his direction, but occasionally he'd slip up and glance without meaning to at the bar. Each time, he found Black staring intently at him.

_I'll talk to him afterwards_, Remus decided. _Tell him to leave, that I never want to see him again. I could ask Mattie not to serve him if he comes back. Would that work? Probably not…_

AN: so this is my first ever AU fic, so feedback would be really appreciated. I've no idea how long this is going to be, but it probably won't be short. Most likely will be slash later.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late that night when the last stragglers finally left the bar, bleary-eyed and several cut up from the inevitable brawl that had begun between several of the regulars. Remus stood up, fingers stiff and back aching slightly. To his utmost relief, Black had disappeared. Dora was gone too. She usually hung around for a bit, she was a nice girl, Remus thought vaguely. He shut the piano and picked his way through the small tables and chairs spread haphazardly throughout the place to talk to Mattie at the bar. He was slowly cleaning up, his habitual glass of red wine stood on the counter, half empty now.

'Anything strange?' Remus asked. His voice was forced into lightness but it held a sharp edge to it that Mattie wouldn't have missed had he been stone cold sober. As it was, he merely laughed his booming laugh. Remus winced at the sound, a headache coming on, he was sure.

'We had a man come in here looking for you,' Mattie said eventually, taking a generous swig from his wine glass. 'British lad. Stared at you for most of the night. Didn't he talk to you?'

Remus shook his head. So Black was there for him. Why had he not come over then? Fearful that Remus still hated him? Then why come at all?

'Well that's pretty strange,' Mattie agreed. Remus nodded distractedly and stretched out in a tired yawn.

'I think I'll head home. See you tomorrow night.'

'Bye Lupin.'

Remus nodded his goodbye and, after collecting his coat, he pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the cold, December air. Dirty snow settled on the edges of the footpath, making passage difficult. He felt his feet slip on the icy ground, and were it not for someone darting from the shadows and catching his arm in a death grip, he would almost certainly have fallen. His relief quickly disappeared however, as he saw who it was holding his elbow.

'Get off me Black,' he hissed, snatching his arm away, expression furious. Sirius fell back for a moment, before suddenly steering Remus back into the cold wall of a boarded-up shop.

'I need to talk to you Remus,' he said firmly. Remus struggled against him but Sirius didn't release him.

'I don't want to talk to you,' Remus replied angrily. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

'Remus, you've got to listen to me-'

'No I don't. Leave me alone, alright?'

'You don't understand-'

'I understand perfectly well,' Remus said shortly, pulling away from the man and striding down the street. As he walked, he turned back to face Sirius. Still walking, he called out, 'I don't want to see you again. Black, I'm serious.'

Sirius gritted his teeth and watched as Remus left hurriedly, without sparing him another glance.

* * *

It took Remus almost half an hour to walk back to his flat, by which time his fingers and feet felt numb with the fierce cold. Stamping his snow covered feet clean on the mat at the door, Remus dug for his key in his coat pocket. With clumsy fingers, he fumbled with the lock, eventually managing to get the door open. Four flights of stairs and a short debacle with Mrs Brown's cat later, he found himself outside the grey-painted door of his own flat. He fared better with this lock, fingers slightly more dextrous in the still rather doubtful heat of the grotty hall.

He tumbled into his flat with relief, pulling off his coat and scarf in a fluid movement. He left his fingerless gloves on; the room wasn't exactly a sauna. Shivering slightly, he slid into the worn stool he kept in front of his ancient piano. He stretched his finger slowly over the keys, mind spinning. Before even attempting to play, Remus let his head fall onto the piano, wincing at the jarring notes that rang out in the empty room.

* * *

Sirius returned to the bar every night for the following three weeks. And for the following three weeks, Remus stoically ignored him. He found that if he could just concentrate on the music, and how the light caught the sequins on Dora's dress, he could ignore the fact that Sirius had disregarded his request - order really - and persisted to come to the bar anyway.

Sirius, for his part, was growing impatient. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up. The drink wasn't exactly cheap, and he needed every cent he could get. Moreover, he needed Remus to stop ignoring him. He needed Remus to confront him, talk to him. He knew he couldn't try to talk to the pianist again, or he'd drive him further away. But if Remus didn't stop ignoring him soon, Sirius didn't know what he'd do.

_AN: right, sorry for another short chapter, it will get better, I promise! (I hope…) Please leave me a review, and the next chapter will be up soon enough_


	3. Chapter 3

He was there again. Remus didn't even need to glance at the bar anymore to know that. Every night, at exactly half past eight, Sirius arrived in and ordered a double whiskey with ice. Same drink he'd always had, even when Remus had known him. He'd smoke his rolled cigarettes and chat lightly with Mattie. And he'd stare at Remus as if he had two heads. It was beyond unsettling. It was _maddening._

It was a Friday night when Remus snapped. Exactly three weeks after Sirius had first arrived into the bar. The moment Sirius walked in the easily swinging door, Remus left the piano and made his way directly to him. He grabbed Sirius's upper arm and dragged him wordlessly to a tiny backroom.

'I told you not to come here anymore,' he said, his accent thicker with his anger. Sirius squirmed slightly but had to contradict the man.

'You told me not to talk to you,' he corrected. 'I haven't. Well, until now anyway.'

Remus shot him a furious look. 'You knew what I meant.'

'Remus I had to-'

'No you didn't. Anyway…I thought you were still in London? Still in prison.'

Sirius winced slightly and shook his head. 'I did the time. Six years. You were there when they-'

'And you're here for- for what? To finish me off for them? Or the child? If you hurt him, Black, I swear to God-'

'I'd _never_ hurt the kid-'

'What, like you didn't hurt his parents?' Remus demanded, pain and fury mingling in his voice as he stared hard at the man opposite him. For a moment all that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the shouting of the customers outside. Sirius stared at Remus with burning eyes for what seemed like an age, and Remus could see the guilt in the way his fingers became claw-like as they grasped the chair, and how he bit down on his bottom lip so hard it might have bled.

'Remus! Get out here, would you? I can't sing without a piano player!'

Sirius shifted immediately at Dora's voice. His gaze darted towards the door and he took a step backwards.

'I- I should go,' he muttered. Remus didn't reply, hardly reacted, and let him push past, eyes averted. He spent a long moment simply staring at the space Sirius had vacated, before shaking himself.

'Just a minute Dora!' he called distractedly. Good. He was gone. Hopefully forever. Remus could get on with his life, exactly how he'd been getting on with it for the past six years. And in the morning, he could go to visit the child. Little Harry. He'd have to warn Arthur anyway that Black was back in the area.

Had it really been six whole years?

_AN: ok sorry, this chapter is far too short, and I don't really have an excuse. All I can say is please bear with me! I now have a more clear idea of where this plot is going, and I'll try to make the next chapter much, much longer. Hope you liked this anyway!_


	4. Chapter 4

_1932_

'Remus you must leave the country as soon as possible.'

He nodded, he'd already been planning it. He had an aunt in America that he'd contacted once he'd gotten the news. 'And the child?'

Albus looked much older than his sixty years, weary and sad. He glanced at the cot in the corner of his office. In it slept a little, black haired toddler with shockingly green eyes and a bright laugh that made him hiccup when his godfather tickled him. Not that he ever would again, Remus thought harshly. Albus looked back at him, eyes quickly losing the twinkle that filled them upon looking on the child.

'You must keep him safe. It is vital that he remains safe, Remus,' he said seriously, eyes holding Remus, forcing him to promise to this.

'I swear nothing will hurt him,' Remus said in a low, but sincere voice. He made his way with uncertainty to look at Harry's sleeping form, wrapped in bundles of off white blankets.

'I've already acquired passage for you to Boston. After that, you must move inland. Hide yourselves. Become invisible.'

Remus nodded again. 'When-'

'Three days time. The ship will leave from Southampton at noon,' Albus informed him.

'I'll set off in the morning, and take a room in Southampton for a few nights,' Remus agreed. His gaze remained on the peaceful child below him. Harry had no idea what had happened. What was going to happen. It was probably better that way though, he reasoned. Remus wished himself ignorant of all that had happened in the last few days. He knew now what people meant when they claimed ignorance to be bliss.

'Shall I take Harry with me now?' he asked quietly.

Albus nodded. 'His things are there at your feet.'

* * *

_1938_

The Weasley family - plus one - lived in a great shambling wreck of a house. It was a large townhouse, one that Mrs Weasley had inherited upon her father's death. But years of little money - to be spent on food and clothes rather than fixing the leaking roof or the hole in the floor in one of the upstairs bedrooms - had destroyed the splendour and replaced it with children. In the house lived eleven people; six Weasley boys, one Weasley girl, two Weasley parents, a quiet young woman who rented one of the rooms and, of course, Harry Potter.

Remus - unable to afford or care for a young child - had been forced to find someone to take in his friends' child, and the Weasleys were the best he could find. He paid them a sum of money every month to pay for Harry's care, which both embarrassed and pleased Mrs Weasley in great measure. And he visited whenever he possibly could.

He could not help but feel guilty however, when he thought of the child's parents.

Remus made his way quickly through the busy streets, aware of the ice underfoot. Grey, slushy snow was piled to either side of the footpath, and the children who dared to stop and play with it were briskly told off by harried mothers. He quickly found the Weasleys' house, an old-fashioned, teetering thing that Remus had grown quite fond of in the past few years. About to knock on the door - the doorbell didn't work anymore - it suddenly swung open, revealing a rather haggard Arthur Weasley in an ill-fitting suit, briefcase under arm.

'Oh, hello Arthur,' Remus smiled warmly. 'Off to work, is it?'

'And running late I'm afraid. I was called in with hardly a warning in the world just ten minutes ago. I was supposed to have the day off!' he exclaimed.

Remus nodded sympathetically. 'Listen, I need to talk to you for a moment, if that's not too much trouble?'

'I'm sorry Remus, but maybe you could talk to Molly? I really am in a rush.'

Arthur looked at once so apologetic and stressed that Remus relented and let him pass. 'Sure, that's fine. Good luck!'

Arthur nodded and hurried on. Remus sighed slightly, he didn't like having to worry Molly. He knocked sharply on the door, before heading in.

'Remus!' a shrill voice squealed in delight. The eight year old rushed, all energy and excitement, down the stairs and barrelled into Remus - hardly reaching past his waist. Remus grinned and picked up Harry to hug him.

'Hey, how are you doing?'

'Ron stole my car!' Harry accused, pointing towards the red haired little boy who'd accompanied him from upstairs.

'I didn't! I just borrowed it!' he protested. Remus laughed a little, and put Harry back on the floor.

'Maybe you could share it,' he suggested. The two were like brothers - in actual fact, Ron was probably closer to Harry than to any of his brothers. But they took the suggestion that they might actually share the little, red toy car that Remus had got for them as a blow to their pride and their morals.

'But- but it's mine!' Harry said, aghast. Ron folded his arms across his chest sulkily.

'You're mean,' he told the other boy. Remus smiled slightly and shook his head.

'It's nice to share, Harry. Now, do you two know where your mother is?'

'She's in the sitting room,' Ron informed him, pointing towards the half open door. Then, Harry nodding his very grown-up goodbye to Remus, they pelted back upstairs, laughing and shouting all the way. Remus's smile widened, not for the first time he was glad that it was the Weasley family who'd taken in Harry. He quickly made his way in to the sitting room, where Molly was busy trying to get the twins to do their homework.

'But I don't like maths! Why do we- oh, hi Remus!' one of them - Fred maybe, Remus thought - grinned at his entrance.

'Oh hello there, Remus,' Molly gave him a harried smile as he closed the door behind him. 'Harry's upstairs with Ron.'

'Actually Molly, I need to talk to you, if you don't mind,' Remus said in a low voice that barely carried over the rough antics of the twins. Molly nodded and turned to them.

'Fred, George, you can go out and play,' she said tiredly. The both split into massive, identical grins and leapt up, cheering.

'Sorry, I can come back later if you're busy,' Remus offered half-heartedly, reaching back for the door handle, but Fred and George had already pelted past him, thanking him loudly on their way.

'I'm always busy, dear,' Molly said, though not unkindly. 'What is it you have to tell me?'

Remus hesitated for a moment, uncertain as to how to tell her. 'Right, um…you know that Harry and I came here from London, yes?'

'Yes, you told Arthur and me how you got to be here when we took in Harry,' Molly answered blankly.

'And you know that Harry isn't my son? That he's an orphan,' Remus continued, and Molly nodded.

'Well, a friend of mine - or he used to be a friend at any rate - he was sent to prison for the manslaughter of another friend. I also have reason to believe that he is responsible for the deaths of Harry's parents,' Remus said. It was difficult to bring all this back up again, dark memories invading his mind. He went on quickly to avoid any interruption from Molly. 'I saw him last night. He came to the bar, talked to me. He's been released from prison, and came over here.'

Molly looked at once fearful and determined. 'Well he's not coming anywhere near Harry, if Arthur and I have anything to do with it. Why don't you call the cops on him?'

Remus shook his head. 'He hasn't done anything wrong yet. I'm sorry to put you in this position Molly, I really wish I didn't have to.'

'Don't worry about it Remus, it seems to me you have a lot more on your plate. You really think he'll come after Harry?'

'I don't know,' Remus shrugged honestly. It pained him to say that. The Sirius he thought he'd known would have died to ensure his godson's safety.

'I just don't know.'

_AN: hmm…is it? I'm not really sure- I think this may be the longest chapter yet! And it didn't take me an inordinate amount of time to upload it! And you got a flashback! But I'm not whoring for reviews, I swear! ;-)_

_Hope you liked it anyway :-)_

_Also, I've worked out a fairly decent plot for this but it includes some supernatural elements. It's still not HP-style magic, but I was a little hasty in writing 'no magic' in the summary, sorry! If you do review, could you please tell me if you'd prefer to see vampires or just straight Muggle stuff? I don't mind too much either way, as I can't decide myself at the moment. Thanks!_


	5. Chapter 5

_1938_

Sirius collapsed into the flea-bitten armchair, an old crumbling letter held in both hands. He knew the words by heart, he only looked down now to see the scrawling handwriting. He wondered vaguely if the sender's writing had changed since, and found it oddly painful to consider that it might have. Stupid thing to get upset over, he told himself harshly. Handwriting didn't matter.

What _mattered_ was that Remus couldn't bring himself to even listen to Sirius. What mattered was the hatred Sirius had seen in his eyes as Remus stared him down. Not that he could blame Remus.

But he needed Remus to listen to him. He needed Remus to trust him again.

* * *

_1932_

'Sirius Black, this court finds you guilty of the crime of manslaughter,' the judge announced gravely. Rosier, his name was. 'I hereby sentence you to fifteen years imprisonment at Her Majesty's Prison Wandsworth.'

The barrister beside Sirius made no sign that he'd even heard the sentence, his expression had hardly shifted. Sirius simply felt numb, just as he'd felt since finding the bloody bodies of three of his best friends. It wasn't until the cell door slammed shut in front of him that realisation set in.

* * *

_1938_

'Remus?'

He saw a pair of worn, red high heels walking towards him and looked up to see Dora pulling a long coat on over her dress.

'D'you want a hand with that?' she asked, voice hopeful. She gestured towards the sweeping brush held in Remus' hand. He blinked, tiredness making his response slow, before smiling gratefully at her and nodding.

'If you don't mind,' he said, shrugging a little. Dora smiled back and retrieved a cloth from behind the bar. As she began wiping off the tables in silence, Remus realised that although they spent almost every working night together, they practically never talked - not properly at any rate. He knew nothing about the girl, and she knew nothing about him. This sort of thought was exactly the sort that had given him a sense of liberty upon arriving in the city, but he could only feel lonely at the fact tonight. He quickly dragged his thoughts back to the almost deserted bar as he noticed Dora speaking to him.

'…not from around here,' she was saying. 'You're from France, yeah?'

Remus found himself nodding. 'Yes, originally. Though I came here from London.'

'Can you speak some French?' Dora asked, a mischievous grin forming on her face. Remus started him surprise. He'd seen that face on Dora before; usually just as she began talking to a young lawyer or a business man in an expensive suit. Remus didn't know exactly what she did with them afterwards, but he could piece together the general idea. But he hadn't clue as to why she'd turn that grin on him.

'Uh…what would you like me to say?' he said, uncertainty making him stumble over the words.

'Anything.'

'Okay er…vous etes vraiment belle ce soir.'

Dora looked thrilled. She was closer to him now, though he couldn't recall seeing her move. She _was _very pretty, he thought vaguely. 'What does that mean?' she asked.

Remus just smiled. 'You'll have to learn.'

'Tell me again, I'll find out what it is,' Dora demanded good-naturedly. 'I want to make sure you're not insulting me.'

'Of course I'm not,' Remus replied, still smiling. 'It's 'vous etes vraiment belle ce soir'. You got it?'

'I think so. Vous etes vraiment belle ce soir?' she repeated, her harsh accent murdering the French sounds. Remus struggled to suppress a laugh but nodded.

'That- that's it,' he said, swallowing hard as he saw just how close she was to him now.

'You're cute,' Dora said fondly, reaching to brush a strand of his fringe from his eyes. Remus watched her slender fingers closely, transfixed. He made an inarticulate sound, his usual eloquence failing him as he caught the scent of her perfume, and cigarette smoke.

'And I like French guys,' she confessed in almost a whisper. Remus was almost frozen in place as she placed a light kiss to his lips. She drew back a little, though he could still feel her breath on his face. 'Everything ok?'

Loneliness, he'd tell himself later, and confusion, that's what had possessed him to answer her with a hungry kiss. She replied with equal vigour, slipping one hand around his neck as he wrapped an arm around her slim waist.

Remus didn't hear the door bang open, or see who stood there until Dora pulled away from him and spun around in surprise. Her eyebrows flew into her fringe as she surveyed the dark haired intruder.

'You can't come in here,' she said aggressively, hands flying to her hips. 'We're closed.'

Remus stared at Sirius, who stared back. He looked aghast. Regret flooded Remus, then anger. Why should he regret kissing a pretty girl who liked him? It wasn't as if he had any obligation to Black. Quite the opposite in fact. His stare turned to a glare as he saw Sirius struggling for words.

'Wh- what are you- I should- shit Remus.' Sirius ran a shaking hand through his hair, about to back away and then seemingly thinking better of it.

'What are you doing here?' Remus demanded.

'I- I need to talk to you.'

'Who the hell are you?' Dora asked loudly, stepping between the two of them. Before Remus could answer, Sirius closed the gap between himself and Remus and caught his arm. Remus shifted uncomfortably as he saw the desperation in his eyes.

'Please Remus, you've got to listen to me.'

'Who the hell are you?' Dora repeated, voice rising angrily. Remus glanced between her and Sirius, sighing heavily.

'Dora, um…I think- I'll clean up. You can go home if you like.'

Dora paused, frowning heavily. Remus winced, he hadn't wanted to insult her but the look in Sirius' eyes frightened him. He tried to apologise. 'I mean, not that- I just have to-'

'I get it Remus,' she cut him off coolly. 'It's not a problem.'

She straightened her coat and pushed past both of them for the door, leaving Remus and Sirius in an uncomfortable silence.

'So…what did you want to talk to me about?'

_AN: dun dun dun! Well not really, but the next chapter will be more dramatic. Still undecided about vampires but if I do put them in they won't be sparkly (because that's just stupid, and I'm not even sorry to any Twilighters out there), they'll be quite animal-like I think. I don't need to decide on that for the next few chapters but if anyone else wants to weigh on this, any and all opinions are welcome._

_Also if you do review, aside from being very grateful and all, I was wondering if you could give me some constructive criticism. Tell me where I'm going right and - especially - where I'm going wrong, where I'm boring you and where it's good. Don't hold back on criticism - as long as it's grounded (not just, 'oh I don't like any of it', tell me why). If you have the time and could be bothered of course. _

_Thanks for reading!_


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